


just a minute alone would do

by sandpapersnowman



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Bad Dirty Talk, Dirty Talk, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fantasizing, Hand Jobs, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, i'm not sure how to tag it EXACTLY but? brief non-consensual explicit picture taking, standard handsome jack bastard fare tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:15:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21941008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: The heel of Jack's boot presses harder into Tim's spine."I'm sorry," Tim chokes, the words coming out too thick through pain and blooming wetness in his eyes.He tries to keep the panic out of his voice. He hadn't gotten very far with Nisha, and she'd been the one to start it in the first place, kissing him and running her hands over his legs and touching him likethat; surely some heavy petting that got interrupted anyway wouldn't warrant anythingtoodrastic, right?
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Nisha (Borderlands), Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence, Handsome Jack/Timothy Lawrence/Nisha
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	just a minute alone would do

**Author's Note:**

> title from phoenix's [Fior Di Latte](https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/phoenix/fiordilatte.html) because, believe it or not, i'm Gay
> 
> summary looks Very ominous kdhgd i promise tim has a relatively good time. barely read over because i wrote it all at once in a Fury of Specific Thirst and then told myself i couldn't post any other fics until i got over my Shame and posted this one lmao. Enjoy!

The heel of Jack's boot presses harder into Tim's spine.

"I'm sorry," Tim chokes, the words coming out too thick through pain and blooming wetness in his eyes.

"That's not good enough," Jack sighs. "Saying 'sorry' doesn't un-fuck my girlfriend, does it?"

Tim swallows and shakes his head as much as he can against the cold steel floor.

"It won't happen again," he promises, "She said it was okay, and we didn't even — I — I swear, Jack, I'll never talk to her again."

The pressure between his shoulders disappears, but Tim doesn't move. He's learned the hard way that Jack is never done with him unless he says he is, and sure enough, there's a hand yanking at the back of his belt.

There's no verbal instruction, just the insistent pull guiding his ass into the air. It stops when Tim is forced to bring his knees up for support, head still low to the ground and the angle making his shirt ride up his chest, but Tim's blood doesn't go cold until he feels Jack's hands sliding to undo his buckle.

"What are you doing, sir?"

He tries to keep the panic out of his voice. He hadn't gotten very far with Nisha, and she'd been the one to start it in the first place, kissing him and running her hands over his legs and touching him like _that_ ; surely some heavy petting that got interrupted anyway wouldn't warrant anything _too_ drastic, right?

Jack moves between Tim's legs, his knees forcing Tim's own open further as he kneels between them. Tim expects pain once Jack gets his belt open, and instead, he chokes back a noise when Jack's fingers wrap around his soft cock.

"You don't fuck around with someone without my permission," Jack continues, in the same terrifying monotone as before, as though he isn't slowly beginning to jerk Tim off. "If you need to get off, you bring _my_ body to _me_ to get taken care of."

Tim's body is responding traitorously, the anxiety curdling his blood not enough to keep his hips from jerking forward when Jack gives him a particularly rough stroke. It feels _good_ , physically, because he hasn't gotten off in so long — him and Nisha were interrupted, and he didn't have time while they were at war with Zarpedon on the moon, and before that he was recovering from surgery. It's been _months_ since he's touched himself, he realizes, and much, _much_ longer since someone _else_ has.

"You understand, kid?" Jack asks, stopping. 

"Yeah," Tim says too-quick. "I understand, sir, I promise."

"And?" Jack asks. "What else?"

Tim goes cold with fear even if Jack doesn't stop.

He doesn't know what Jack wants him to say.

"No talking to Nisha," he tries.

"No, I don't actually care about that," Jack laughs, squeezing almost _cruelly_ and wringing a thick drop of precum from him. "You're just as much her property as mine, we just thought it'd be funny if I cockblocked myself."

For fuck's sake. He really hates this job.

"Oh," Tim says weakly. _What else_.

Jack's other hand grabs a fistful of Tim's hair and tugs, briefly yanking his neck into an even more uncomfortable angle.

"Now," Jack sneers, "you say 'thank you for your mercy, sir'."

For _fuck's sake_.

In another situation, Tim would ask if he's serious, but he gets a sinking feeling that it doesn't matter whether Jack is serious or not — he wants Tim to say something, so Tim has to say it.

"Thank you," he sighs dreamily, mustering up all the gratefulness for not being dead that he can into a convincing enough tone. "Thank you for your mercy, sir."

" _There_ we go," Jack purrs. He lets go of Tim's hair, and for a whole half a second Tim is _only_ being uncomfortably pinned to the floor with his dick in his boss's hand.

Then Jack drapes himself over Tim's back and ruts up against Tim's ass, but Tim will remember that half-second fondly.

"Shit, I wanna fuck you," Jack grunts to the back of his neck. "Not tonight, but sometime. You want that?" 

Not really, no.

For one reason or another, out of fear or desperation or commitment to _the role_ , he still nods into the floor.

"Yeah," he moans. "Yes, _please_ , you should fuck me one day."

"Yeah?" Jack asks, as though Tim hadn't just been very clear. "You want this meat in you? Want me to open you up and cream in you when I'm done?"

Tim vaguely wonders if Jack is purposely making terrible dirty talk, but before he can begrudge himself for getting off on it anyway, Jack's hand leaves him. Before Tim can ask questions or beg him not to stop yet, there's a wet noise, and Jack's hand returns to his cock slicked with spit, just barely. Tim's own precum was doing a better job of keeping Jack from rubbing his dick raw, but there's still some guilty twinge in his gut knowing Jack's jerking him off like some dirty bar quickie.

"Nisha showed me this real big cock she's got," Jack adds, voice dropping like he's telling Tim a secret. "She said she bought it especially for you."

_That_ snaps Tim back to reality. 

"My cock isn't half as thick as the one she's saving for you, baby," he goes on. "After I fill you up, she's gonna bend you in half and fuck it all back in you before it leaks, and she's gonna fuck you so deep you'll feel it in your _throat_."

Tim wasn't fortunate enough to see her undressed earlier, but it's not hard to imagine her thin, lanky frame towering over him, all smooth brown skin except for the harness over her hips and an unrealistically-huge strap-on hanging between her legs for him.

His toes curl at the thought. He's lying when he says he wants Jack, but _Nisha_ is — he's had a crush on her since they got on the transport. She's openly eyed Tim in the lulls between fights. She's called him 'sweetheart' and 'baby' and 'princess' just to make him squirm, and he's turned red every time. She's gotten drunk at Moxxi's and overshared about her experiences with pegging, encouraged by Wilhelm's laughter and Athena's obvious distaste for the topic. 

Nisha could treat him _good_.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he whimpers, trying to pull back away from Jack's hand. He doesn't know if Jack intends to give him permission, and maybe Jack hasn't gotten everything he wanted out of him yet, and maybe now Jack's going to know Tim's got a hair trigger for mentioning his _own girlfriend_ that Tim is ostensibly a disposable novelty for.

Thankfully, Jack doesn't get angry or weird or laugh; he yanks Tim's ass against himself again so there's no more room to wriggle away, and speeds up.

"Do it," Jack hisses into his ear. "Blow your load on my nice floor so you can lick it back up, filthy fucking _slut_ —"

Tim doesn't hear the rest of Jack's tangent; he replaces the mental image of Jack making him clean up his own cum with Nisha, instead, all mean smile and nudging his mouth toward the mess with the toe of her boot, and then he is shamefully, mortifyingly _done_.

Jack strokes him it until it hurts, and somewhere in the blur after that, Jack takes his cock out and paints the backs of Tim's thighs with under-his-breath swears. By the time realizes it, it's definitely ruined the denim, but he doesn't care. Jack will replace them. Whatever.

He's barely coming back around when he hears a crisp, royalty free shutter sound.

"Did you just take a picture of me?" Tim slurs into the floor. 

He's drooling, too, great, but that's probably the least gross part of his current state.

"She wanted a picture after."

Jack sounds a lot more put-together than Tim, but...

Wait.

"You took a picture for Nisha?"

Jack's hand trails over Tim's ass, pulling at the belt loose in its loops until Tim feels cool air hit his bare skin. His jeans crumple to his knees and leave him partially naked, and he — he should really care more about that, right?

Another shutter noise.

"She's out on some personal business, but she didn't want to be left out," Jack says. 

Tim feels his palm on one cheek, Jack's thumb digging in to the muscle and pulling it away just enough for Jack to expose his _hole_ , the air feeling even colder in contrast to the heat of the sensitive skin there.

He flinches at the noise this time, regaining some sense of _this is a bad idea_ from the haze, but Jack releases him and removes himself from Tim's space before Tim can oppose anything.

"I told Nisha I don't know if she'll be able to fit it all in you," Jack jokes, casual again like Tim isn't still collapsed in a puddle of his own cum on his office floor. "But, hey, we'll leave that to her, right?"

He's so sore. He's going to have such deep, specific bruises from being crammed into this position for so long. Jack has pictures of him like this, with his ass open and his legs spread, and he's sure he's going to have an anxiety attack over that the second his brain reboots.

Until then, though, the image of Nisha brandishing a toy to fuck him with is practically burned into his eyelids.

**Author's Note:**

> i dont actually know for sure if i'm gonna continue this but i Do wanna keep going with more tim/nisha centric tim/jack/nisha so maybe?? we will See
> 
> i'm also on tumblr as [sandpapersnowman](https://sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/)! hmu!


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